Living without True Love
by Sigma1
Summary: Willow reflects, after Season 7, on Tara, Kennedy, what was and what will never come again.


A/N: This contains spoilers up to the end of Season 7. If you haven't watched it, sorry, but you'll probably want to leave.  
  
I suppose I am in love with Kennedy, in a way, but it's really not her that I love. It's what she represents. She's everything Tara wasn't--a tactless, athletic, take-charge kinda gal.  
  
It's kinda funny how far I went to avoid any similarities to Tara, to my one true love. She really was my only true love, you know. Oz? That was puppy love, not that there were any puppies involved, just a werewolf, which I suppose you could call a puppy, and actually he was infected by his nephew or something, and wouldn't his nephew be younger, so I guess that there was a puppy...oh, sorry. Babbling again. Haven't done that too much recently.  
  
Xander? That started out as a crush. I mean, who wouldn't be interested in the first person to really notice you? It just seemed natural to me. Eventually, when he actually paid attention me for the first time with that fluke, it became a combination of danger and "I'm finally getting something Cordelia doesn't have!" There wasn't anything really loving about that.  
  
But, then I met Tara...Just her name brings such strong memories back. I remember going to that stupid Wicca meeting, not really expecting to find much...and, instead, I found everything. Everything worth living for.  
  
You know, when I went all Black-Eyed Veiny Willow, I really thought that, without Tara, no one had anything worth living for. I still do, sometimes. She was the only person who took the time to look past geeky-Willow and powerful-witch Willow and find out who I was. Sometimes, Oz made a bit of an effort, but I never really knew him either. The Oz I thought I knew would never have cheated on me with Veronica.  
  
With Tara, I knew everything there was to know about her, just like she learned everything about me. We used to lie in bed or sit in a beautiful park and just tell story after story about the fun parts of our lives...and, sometimes, holding each other tight, we'd talk about all the bad things we'd seen and felt.  
  
Then, I went and ruined it with the magic. You see, with her, I could be myself, but with everyone else, I felt I needed to be powerful. What was it Buffy called me? Her big gun? There was this image I felt I had to live up to. I started losing myself in the power then, I'll admit to that. I definitely had a big problem.  
  
I was almost ready to give up some of the power, but then Tara and I fought, and she got brain-sucked by Glory. I had to save her...I just had to. I didn't care how much power I needed or how dark the spells were, I had to bring back my Tara. I did, too. But, at the same time, I began to lose her.  
  
After Buffy died, I slipped even farther into my role as the powerful Wicca. Hey, I even got elected "Leader of Us," plaque included. It was an exciting time, having all that power under my control. I brought Buffy back and that had to be one of the most incredible moments of my life. I don't think I'll ever tell anyone--by that point, Tara and I were already too distant for me to confide that to her--but, even after Buffy told me where she'd been, I still felt proud of what I did. Of how far I'd come from weak little geeky-Willow.  
  
Then the addiction started to get stronger. My spells grew darker and darker, and Tara grew more and more distant. Finally, I really ruined the only good thing I had by raping her mind. That's right. I raped it; I raped her. For the longest time, she couldn't even look at me without thinking about what I'd done.  
  
To make things worse, I stupidly did what Amy wanted and what Rack desired. Amy knew exactly how to manipulate me...I guess I really hadn't changed as much as I'd thought. I began to crave the wonderful highs Rack gave, even to the point that I dragged Dawn there. You know, it took that long for Buffy to really notice I had a serious problem.  
  
Ok, I'll give her a little credit. She did notice a bit during the whole mind-rape thing, but I don't think she wanted to see what was happening. She's always wanted to stay in her little world where she, Buffy, is the most important thing...the only important thing. Yes, she was ripped out of heaven by yours truly, but couldn't she at least have paid enough attention to the rest of us to notice that Dawn was a klepto, I was an addict, and Xander and Anya were barely together?  
  
I'd better move on before I go all black-eyed again.  
  
I quit magic. Now, I find out that was one of the stupidest things in the world I could have done. But, what was I supposed to do!? I had to blunder through the whole learning magic thing on my own! Giles barely cared enough about me to see if I was actually doing the right stuff. I mean, everyone was willing to criticize when something like that "My Will Be Done" spell went bad, but who stepped in to help? No one!  
  
Anyway, I quit. Tara was so proud of me, once she could bear to speak two words to me, that is. Finally, we got together. She made the cutest little speech about how we had to take it slow and make sure this was really what we should do, but how she just wanted to skip that part. We skipped it, all right! Those were some of the happiest hours of my life--cuddling, not-cuddling, talking...  
  
And then it ended with a bang. Literally. Suddenly, her blue shirt was spattered with blood. She blinked, looked at me in a bit of a daze, said "Your shirt..." and then she fell. She never got up, you know. Died right then. I called Osiris, but he refused to help me. It seems that you need to die by supernatural means in order to get his help.  
  
When I got outside, Xander was all concerned about his Buffy. He's always wanted her, y'know. I remember him telling me all about her when he first saw her. He fell at her feet, physically and emotionally, and she didn't even really notice. When Tara...died, he didn't even bother to ask me about her, about the blood on my shirt. But, he did give me a name: Warren.  
  
I healed Buffy first. I guess I felt a bit of an obligation. I mean, I'd ripped her out of heaven. The least I could do was fix her up. Then, I went to find Warren. When I did...Do you know how good it felt? I had the power over him. Over the man who'd killed my love, my life. I hurt him first. I'd have liked to hurt him more, but then the Scoobies arrived. Oh, joy. So, I just ripped his skin off and burned up the body.  
  
He wasn't my only target. No, I had to go after the other two nerds who'd helped him in most of his plans, although not the shooting. They were sitting in the local jail, actually. Anya and Buffy went in and rescued them, but I quickly caught up. Unfortunately (or so I thought at the time), I ran out of magic. It seems that the "big gun" wasn't limitless.  
  
I needed a juice up, and I needed it quickly, so I went to the most obvious place: Rack. It almost makes me laugh to think how he, even when I walked in there in all my black-haired black-eyed glory, still thought he could control me. Me! Oh, no, he couldn't! I drained him dry in a couple seconds. It was a nice pick-me-up, but I quickly found dessert: Dawn.  
  
Yes, Dawn, in her teenage foolishness, somehow thought she could help me or something. I was never very clear on that point. Anyway, do you know how much power that girl has? It just called to me...screamed at me to use it! I almost did. But, of course, Buffy arrived. I magicked all three of us over to the Magic Box, where they'd apparently prepared for my arrival.  
  
I didn't know it at that second, but Anya was chanting something to keep me from hurting people with my magic. So, I did the obvious thing: made myself as powerful as a slayer and attacked. Little miss slayer, of course, did her best to defend the others. They got away, and I got to kick Buffy around! Then Giles popped in, all magicked-up from a coven in England. Presto, I was made harmless...or so he thought.  
  
Got Anya to release me (against her will) and beat all of them up. Grabbed all of Giles's magic, too. Suddenly, I could actually feel everyone on the planet. Do you have any idea what that's like? It's so overwhelming. And so painful. I had to make it end. Heading over to Kingman's Bluff, where I knew there was an old shrine thing to a hell goddess or something of that sort, I began to end the world.  
  
Xander arrived just in time. Thinking back, ending the world would have been a bad idea. But, then, it seemed awfully smart. I still can't believe how it was the yellow-crayon story that got me in the end...that, and how he never seemed to stop loving me. It reminded me of Tara...when I began to think of her, I just gave up. Gave in.  
  
I was ready, at that point, to allow Giles to do whatever he wanted: kill me, take away my power, whatever. He went all Dumbledore on me instead, taking me to that coven in England where he'd gotten his power from. I got better there...mostly. Then there was the whole thing with the First and calling all those potentials. But, you really don't need to hear all that.  
  
There's only one real reason I'm glad I didn't end the world: if I had, I'd probably be in a hell diminsion, far away from Tara. Now, maybe, I can make up for everything I did, and then, just maybe, I'll get to be with her when I die. That's what keeps me going. That's the only reason I didn't slit my wrists after I stopped being all veiny-Willow. I hope she forgives me for Kennedy...but I need something. Something to make me stop thinking about Tara, about what I've lost, even if it's only a break of a minute or two.  
  
I was guilty about that at first, but, now, it's all I can do. Just keep trying. Just keep waiting for that one day. The day I'll be with Tara again. 


End file.
